


The Viscount Phantom

by Azriella_Helsing



Category: Phantom of the Opera (2004)
Genre: Angst, But what are the consequences, F/M, Love never dies, Marriage, Obsession, So much angst, Time Travel, Time Travel Sucks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2020-10-14 16:49:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20604080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azriella_Helsing/pseuds/Azriella_Helsing
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin.





	1. The Beginning of the End of the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> THIS FIC *WILL* BREAK YOU.  
BE WARNED.

“Long ago/It seems so long ago/How young and innocent we were/She may not remember me, but I remember her.” -Viscount

“Flowers fade/the fruits of summers fade/they have their seasons/so do we…” -Christine

The former Viscount lay on his deathbed. Last week he had gone to see Christine’s grave once more, and to gift it with a mechanical monkey banging the cymbals. While there, he had seen the infamous roses and ring that the Phantom had given his wife, oh so long ago. The Viscount found that he could not be angry with the Phantom, nor afraid of him. Christine had been beautiful and talented, and had charmed her way into even his conservative families’ hearts. He had been permitted to marry her, and he looked forward to seeing her again.

The former Viscount breathed his last, or so he thought.

His first sensation upon waking was the feeling of something over his face. His hand reached up to brush the fabric away, only to be slapped away.

“No one wants to see your ugly face, devil’s child!” A snarling voice came from the shadows.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Abortion, spousal abuse, murder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT THE WARNINGS ON THIS CHAPTER BEFORE YOU READ!!!

Everything occurred just as Madame Guiree had told him years earlier, or years into the future if you thought about it. The former Viscount was starved, beaten, and shown around like a show pony for the crowd’s amused disgust. 

What hurt the most was the crowd jeering at his face.

He came to enjoy his mask, and much preferred to keep it on.

Madame Guiree’s younger face swam in his vision of the crowd. She pitied him, he knew. But pity was the closest to kindness he had come in years. Years of torment, years of agony and shame, and for what? A mere splosh of acid? A ruin of a tiny face? The former Viscount knew that he had been handsome in his previous life, so the knowledge of how hideous he knew he would grow to be....

Madame Guiree saved him twice. Once, by hiding him after he took his vengeance upon his master, and again, by rescuing what was left of his sanity.

She nursed him back to health. She listened to what he knew were wild ramblings. 

He told her about Christine, about his previous life.

She nodded and pretended that he wasn’t mad.

So, when the time came, he allowed her the joy of finding a husband.

This, he was to find, was not a kindness, but a mistake. 

Madame Guiree, having taken her husband’s name properly now, had a beautiful blonde baby daughter. But Madame Guiree was severely weakened, and her husband callous. He knew something was amiss at first when she stopped visiting him in the tunnels under the Opera House. Even when vastly pregnant, she still found time to descend into the upper tunnels at least, even when he begged her not to, for her health had become precious to him. He took to writing songs about his life, songs that had started deep and dark, but now held a ray of light. His light, being his friend, Madame Guiree. So, he snuck out of the Opera House during some festival or other when he saw passersby wearing masks. He stole a plain white porcelain mask, one that covered his entire face. 

He found Madame Guiree injured, and attempting to abort a second child, knowing her health to be too fragile to carry the child to term. He knew that she would risk life and limb for others, so this puzzled him, until he questioned his friend. 

She knew herself to be far too weak to nurse her firstborn, let alone carry the second even halfway to term. She was already too frail, though she was only three weeks along. Puzzled, the former Viscount questioned further, because his friend had only begun to stop seeing him two weeks ago, not the three, and that had not coincided with the birth of her daughter. He had even met the babe that was to become his Christine’s best friend. So why-?

Madame Guiree and the former Viscount were interrupted by Monsieur Guiree. He stank of beer and stale sweat, and tried to haul his wife away, sneering and calling her slurs, threatening to “teach her right.”

The Viscount saw black and green bruises on Madame Guiree’s arms now, where her dress had been yanked up by her husband’s grubby hands. He saw red.

Literally.

He had, before anyone could stop him, grabbed the nearest rock, and brained Monsieur Guiree with the rock, splitting his temple. Blood flowed freely from the wound of the man, he who was dead before he hit the ground.

The Madame looked at her friend in shock, but he could no longer bear to look her in the eye. 

“Gather your belongings and your daughter.” The Phantom told her hoarsely. “You aren’t safe here.”

He performed the abortion in the underground tunnels beneath the Opera House. He didn’t kill his friend, but he did leave her barren. 

“I’ve damned you to a life of loneliness.” He said softly, wiping the Madame’s forehead in apology.

“It’s only fair. I damned you also.” Madame Guiree responded.

And it was true, in the way only those twisted by grief and pain could know:

She, in becoming his closest confidant, had damned him to becoming the very monster he feared. 

He had been damned into becoming himself.


End file.
